


Vices

by huntedjunker



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Play, Drugged Sex, Drunk Sex, Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-04-08 09:50:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14102802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huntedjunker/pseuds/huntedjunker
Summary: A drabble prompt - out late celebrating, Roadhog and Junkrat retire to their motel room. In spite of Junkrat’s inebriated state, Roadhog has other plans on his mind.





	Vices

Groggy, it was unclear to Junkrat where he was. They were, more accurately; his bodyguard had apparently fallen back into the role of carer. Roadhog always seized the opportunity to ensure his partner never got _himself_ , and Hog by association, into too much serious trouble. A late night at the pub was a great concept at the time – as of now, on the verge of losing consicousness to sleep, Junkrat had some doubts how he came to be like this. What his mate’s intentions were from the start of their celebration.

He normally never drank to excess; he wasn’t a pisspot like other junkers. Hog could remain standing on his own two feet and speak (through his typical grunts, a turn of the head, subtle body language). The opposite, Rat was weak when it came to grog. Unable to remember the trip home to their temporary accomodation in town, the scenery broken into blurred snatches of light and dark, Rat’s mind was fogged to such a degree that their night together wasn’t a bonafide thing in the morning,

Out of necessity to please, he had drunk more than he _would_ have accepted in other circumstances. Draped over Hog’s shoulder, feeling the roll of powerful muscles as Hog shifted to re-adjust his grip on Rat’s lithe frame, the drunk junker murmured something next to his bodyguard’s ear — something meant to sound like _“Did you pay the tab or run, mate?”_

Rat had attributed Hog’s silence (not _alarming_ , not _then_ ) to getting misunderstood. It was a simple mishap, plying the thief with all that alcohol. It was an amusing thought, that was, trailing off into nothingness, Rat’s soft giggles ignored as he felt Roadhog lift and set him down on what he had assumed to be their bed, recognising the motel’s decor. His body completely limp and unresponsive to his will, the bomber was content to be left alone, to sleep off the blurred vision and pounding headache.

Despite the lull in his overall noise and excitability, Rat was aware that Hog hadn’t left the bedroom yet.

Licking the corner of his mouth absently, taking the strong alcohol, Junkrat was suddenly sharply aware of his languid body being raised a little, rough fingers carelessly unbuckling his belt to tug them and his unzipped cargoes down over his bony hips, left bunched down around his thighs. Briefs left, he made a puzzled noise when next Hog had dragged him closer to the end of the bed, slipping his large hand between the thief’s legs to curl up and cup him, giving him a quick squeeze, his thumb rubbing over the bulge. There was a hint of distant pain, the drunk junker’s head so clouded to forsake any resistance.

Head lolled to one side in his drunken stupor, sleep a deepening shadow, he cast his friend a questioning look - said best mate took no notice. Squirming feebly underneath the exploring fingers, breathing ragged and quickening, Junkrat grunted softly, irritated by Hog’s confusing behaviour. The hand had dipped lower, deeper underneath, and the consequential circular motions forced through the thin fabric against his tight hole had sent Rat’s heart racing in alarm.

_This wasn’t right._


End file.
